Winter's Reign
by ChaosSpartan575
Summary: Aegon never managed to take the North. Now three hundred years later, King Rhaegar Targaryen wishes to make up for his father's crimes against the Starks by wedding his sister to the crown prince. [Up for Adoption]
1. Chapter 1

Here is another new story. I must really stop myself from creating new stuff and work on the stuff that needs working on. Anyway reviews and criticism are welcome. I don't own Game of Thrones, GRRM does.

The Conqueror I

Aegon fell to his knees in the snow, the bloody fucking snow. Belarion, his massive black dragon lay not more than twenty meters from him, breathing heavily. Aegon could see the dragon's breath melt the snow which only seemed to freeze again when the massive beast breathed in. Aegon glowered at his predicament, stranded away from his army and sisters. He had boldly claimed that he and Belarion alone could roast these Northmen.

Torrhen Stark came to mind and Aegon growled. "The Kings of Winter surrender to no man or beast for winter is behind us." Those words played out many times in his head and the horrid truth with them. As soon as he had taken flight to try and roast the army at the infamous Moat Calin where the Northern King holed up at, a blizzard came out of nowhere. It forced him to land his dragon in the snow. It was a hard landing. The ground was the same color as the wind and hard to ascertain the distance to the ground. He and Belarion managed it… barely.

He looked up to see a figure striding through the cold winds. It was _him._ Aegon's violet eyes narrowed as the winds seemed to almost part for the wolf king as he walked. Aegon scowled at the man. He was clad in furs and boiled leather, a crown with bronze circlet with iron swords pointing up, etched with ruins atop his head. His neatly trimmed beard and hair betrayed the typical northern stereotype of being unwashed brutes. Aegon tried to stand to defend himself. He failed as his injured leg gave way and fell back to his knees. No doubt his chin bone was poking through his flesh under the chainmail of his leg. The irony was not lost as the two kings regarded one another.

Torrhen did not gloat or mock the conqueror. Instead he couched to be at eye level. Torrhen gave a glance at Belarion and sighed. A look of pity for the beast's broken wing.

"It is remarkable you were able to see the ground at all." His tone was casual.

Aegon managed a slight nod trying to guess the other King's game. "Aye, it was little rough," Aegon tried to make light.

Torrhen gave a genuine laugh, it was confusing really after dealing with all those puffed up kings now lords in the south.

Torrhen glanced at the dragon lord's leg with a frown. "Sit back, it needs to be set." Aegon Regarded him coldly. Even Belarion gave a snort. The beast was smarter than he appeared to most. Many of the Southern Lords only saw a horse with wings when they gazed upon Belarion.

"Trust me."

"Trust you, a rival King who openly defied me." Aegon growled.

Torrhen glared and stood up. "Do you honestly think that a King of Fire can claim dominion over a King of Ice." He gestured around him to the storm which seemed to barely kissed skin while Aegon kneeled there, shivering. "Fire cannot melt ice with the ice drowning the fire. It is a balance of sorts." Torrhen crouched in front of Aegon again. "Now let's get that leg set."

Aegon reluctantly nodded. Torrhen rolled the chainmail up and exposed the injury. Aegon flinched at the wound. Torrhen pulled his foot unexpectedly, jerking the jutting bone back into his leg. Aegon grit his teeth, but did not show any weakness.

"Sorry, if you knew it was going to happen your muscles would have clenched up." After the painful resetting of the bone Torrhen took out Blackfire, Aegon's own sword, with the Valyrian King's consent, and even used his own to make a splint. Torrhen hefted the slightly smaller man up.

"What about Belarion?" Aegon asked with a bit of concern. Torrhen looked at the great dragon. Aegon watched as the man closed his eyes for a moment. It was strange like his mind was calling something. A few moments later, a wolf the size if a horse emerged from the winds. Aegon almost fell off the Winter King's shoulder in shock.

Torrhen smiled at the beast, "Hello Huntress, my fellow King needs help leading his mount though the winds." The wolf nodded, actually nodded, and approached the dragon. Belarion growled at the new comer.

Seeing that his Dragon might not agree, Aegon quickly shouted at the dragon over the storm. "Let the wolf guide you Belarion." Aegon's tone while commanding was soft. Torrhen regarded him with great respect in how he treated the great mount.

They resumed their slow walk. Aegon limped next to him wondering when they would reach their destination. His teeth clattered, while the Winter King still seemed unfazed. Then he finally saw the Northmen's camp. He saw many men tending about edges. All armored and ready. Aegon was surprised to see a few women as well dressed in armor among them.

Torrhen smirked as he saw Aegon's gaze, "We are not Southern. Our women can be headstrong. A product of land where survival is every day and no man or woman can contribute less than the other."

Aegon nodded. Many in the camp approached the King.

The man in front, looked much like Torrhen, only his appearance was a little less kept than his royal counterpart.

"Brother, you disappeared." The man's gaze shifted to Aegon and his eyes widened.

"Is that who I think it is?" the man said in astonishment. Aegon realized this must have been Brandon Snow, Torrhen's bastard brother.

"Yes, Huntress is leading his dragon here. We'll need a space for it."

"Not too close to camp I hope." Torrhen glared as his brother.

"Fine, do you want us to imprison the Dragon King here."

"No, take him to my tent and have the my maester look after him. Give him bread and salt first. He is under our protection." The astonished faces from his lords said much before one sent a squire to fetch bread and salt.

It wasn't long before the young boy returned with a small piece of bread already sprinkled with salt. Aegon took it in his free hand. He almost dropped it his fingers where so numb. He crunched the frozen bread down. The Northerners respected this tradition with extreme importance, almost considered the ultimate act of treachery if violated, second only to kinslaying. He would be a fool not to take it.

Two men stepped forward and relieved Torrhen of him and hauled Aegon to the second largest tent in the camp. The large of the two was meant the war room. Even then it was still sparsely furnished compared to what those idoit lords in the south bring with them. Loren Lannister's tent itself must weigh several stones with all the gold trim alone.

Again Aegon found this northern King surprised him. He was laid down on the bed full of warm furs. The old maester that attended him didn't give him his name, instead focusing on the Dragon Kings leg. After he finished left Aegon alone without much fuss. The King found himself rather bored after about an hour. Hopefully his sisters waited until the storm passed to take flight. Orys would no doubt be pacing about the war room, wearing a hole in the ground. He chuckled as he imagined his siblings arguing with each other. Hopefully they were finding common ground to work together more with his absence. The Southern kings warned him not to take the North lightly. But he dismissed the tales of greenseers and magic. He should have known better, and the way the Stark King moved through the storm… the way it seemed to part for him… no, he stopped thinking down that line. That was a road he wanted not to tread down. Magic was dead along with Valyria. That was that.

He heard the flap of the tent move and he noticed the Winter King walk in.

Not even minding Aegon, he sat at his desk took off his crown and tossed it lazily on the desk.

"I hate that wretched thing," the Winter King muttered.

"I would have taken off your hands for you… if you surrendered at the start." Aegon noted.

A look of annoyance crossed the King's features.

"Aye, I bet you would have." He then scowled at Aegon. "Hard enough running one damn kingdom, yet you want all seven." Torrhen shook his head. "Bloody insane." The last part was muttered.

Aegon snorted, "I was thinking boldly innovative."

The Winter King raised an eyebrow. "Well, at least you have the means. On that note, my men are going to try and set the bone on your dragon's wing. Any advice?"

Surprise almost shown on his face, but Aegon was well schooled as in the political arts and hid his expression. Why would Torrhen care if Belarion could fly again? Then again if Aegon's suspicions were correct it wouldn't matter if Belarion was at full heath. "Horses. You would need at least hundred men to set that bone or about twenty horses. It will have to be slow going. I'll have to be present to keep him from roasting everyone present."

"I suspected as much. You have a strong bond with your dragon, no?"

"Yes, he was my father's and grandfather's mount and so on, before he passed to me."

Torrhen chuckled, "More like you passed to him. After all it's not you, those pathetic southern lords bow to."

Aegon glared heatedly at the Ice King's jape, but looked away mulling over what the he was told. If his family had no dragons, they wouldn't have had Five Kingdoms by now or ever really. The true Targaryen army was small, most of it made up of the conquered kings armies. It was his Dragons that now made the difference. What would happen if they died off? Would the lords follow his descendants in that instance?

"You now see my point," Torrhen turned and began writing with quill and ink.

"Is that the terms you plan to send Visenya?" Aegon inquired.

"Those have already been sent. I am writing to my daughter back in Winterfell. I told her I would write when I could. She is not much younger than my sons. Gods bless her if she isn't a she-wolf in her own right. You know she convinced my sons to train her how to fight." Torrhen chuckled at the memories. "She proved to be very good with a blade. Almost beat my brother in a fight as well."

Torrhen stopped talking and looked at Aegon. "We have much to discuss… about your kingdom and mine."

 **And so the two Kings negotiated. It was said that Aegon and Torrhen got along rather well in the discussions both trying to convince each other to bend to their demands. In the end they came to the simple terms between the North and South. The South would still send criminals to the Night's Watch. Trade would continue between the two Kingdoms with an agreed and fixed tariff, and Third was the Westerosi Pact, stating if a foreign power of both natural and supernatural origin invaded Westeros as a hole, the North and South would unite to face such a threat.**

 **There wasn't much to it after that. Aegon was given back to his forces along with Belarion. And Aegon gave Torrhen a great sword which Torrhen named** ** _Ice_** **for saving his life. If only things ended so smoothly. Torrhen's second eldest son mobilized a small force to attack the Targaryen camp. It ended in disaster for the young prince as he and his fellows were roasted by Visenya's dragon. Aegon almost turned his forces back on Torrhen, but the Ice King simply said with a sad look in his eyes, "My boy was a fool." The King turned away and blizzard swept up and seemed to make the Ice King and his party disappear in an instant.**

 **Torrhen's eldest son Brandon was appalled that his Father refused to seek out vengeance for his younger brother. So the crown prince with a company of like-minded Northerners, men and women both, left Westeros to form the Company of the Rose in Essos.**

 **Torrhen was left with only a daughter as heir. So he didn't let his son's final biting words bring him and his house down. He spat in his son's and tradition's face. He named his daughter Sansa, his heir and any children born to her named Stark. Many of his Bannerman were outraged. An unlikely ally spoke in Torrhen's defense though, silencing them all. Royce Bolton's only son and heir too departed with the those exiling themselves leaving only his daughter as well to be heir.**

 **With this, new marriage laws were drafted. More in line with Dorne with their own twist. The marriage laws took hold rather well.**

 **The first born was the heir to the house regardless of gender. A female heir could marry a son to another house (this set up a use for second sons) and she and her children still retained their house name. The man could call himself by his new wife's house if he desired. In the event one or both houses only had one heir each the first two children born to them would take either their father or mother's name to save both houses.**

 **The laws were a double edged sword to be sure as it was now much more difficult for a house to move up in standing, but that was offset by the ability to be saved from going extinct due to a lord or lady having only daughters.**

 **With his succession problems taken care of, he could focus on ruling and being on watch for any sign that Aegon changed his mind. Torrhen passed about fifteen years later leaving the North in the hands of his Daughter Queen Sansa I.**

 **Sansa during her reign became known as the Proven (She-)Wolf. Her reign was fraught with war. The Arryn's managed to land a force of the Faithful to the Seven on the shores near White Harbor to take the North for the Targaryen's in the Seven's name. The Targaryens gave no support to the Arryns however. The Ironborn landed on the opposite coast. Many thought that a Queen would be weak along with her people. They were very wrong. She proved to be an another Theon the Hungry Wolf in her own rite. She slew Jonos Arryn at the battle of White harbor, cutting off his head. She had it mounted at Moat Calin. After squashing the Arryn crusade, she ordered the sept in White Harbor torn down stating "I've had enough of the Seven in my kingdom." The Manderlys complied rather quickly. Sansa didn't force them to convert to the Old Gods as they perhaps one of the Stark's most loyal bannerman, but they did out of slight fear and intimidation from the other lords. It said that the Manderly's are still a bit bitter to the Umbers and Glovers for pressuring them, but remain loyal to the Starks.**

 **The Wolf Queen turned her gaze to the Ironborn on the Western Coast. She left her husband and Regent, Arn Karstark to watch the East coast. The Ironborn left the North rather quickly after she killed all three of Vikkon Greyjoy's sons over the course of the campaign. Their heads were mounted on along Jonos' at Moat Calin.**

 **The North was left alone say the occasional prodding of the South. Sansa's reign also socially impacted the North as well. Many women began to take up arms in larger numbers upon hearing deeds of their queen. Queen Sansa had four sons.**

 **The Dance of Dragons saw another interesting twist in the relations with the south. King Cregan Stark was convinced to aid the rightful heir to the throne Rheanrya Targaryen on the condition a Targaryen princess wed into the Stark line called the Pact of Ice and Fire. (There were even rumors of dragon eggs hidden the Crypts when Rheanyra's son was sent to negotiate) Rheanyra never saw the end of the war, but her son Aegon III allowed King Cregan to be his hand for an hour to deal with his usurper uncle's faction leaders. Everyone either took the black or was beheaded by** ** _Ice_** **that day, becoming the first man in history to have control over both kingdoms even if it was for only a short time. Cregan left part of his army south to help the Southern Kingdom keep order and cement Aegon III's reign. His son Rikkon died fighting in Dorne against the old man's wishes. Daeron II personally escorted Rikkon's remains to Winterfell having made fast friends with the Wolf Prince.**

 **The Targaryens still to this day haven't fulfilled their promise to the Northern Kingdom.**

 **Alright here is the cast for the Stark family for Winter's Reign:**

 **King Eddard I:** Pretty much the same Eddard from the books and series only he is a King and doesn't have an honor boner since he wasn't raised by Jon Arryn. He is honorable to a point, but not unwilling to shed his honor to do what must be done.

 **Queen Ashara** : They met in White Harbor when Ashara heard of the Tall Tower taking female maesters. Ned was visiting the Manderlys with his father Rickard and brother Brandon to set up the marriage agreement. They met and married not a month later. So Ned was already married and Prince Brandon was going marry a Manderly before his death. The Daynes are a house respected by the North like the Blackwoods and House Royce in the books as they take pride in their first men ancestry.

 **Jon Stark:** This is not to spit in the face for R+L=J fans. I know in the tv show they seemed to have confirmed it, but since Winds of Winter has not come out yet, it is still up in the air. He might still be a Dayne in the books. (I hope the TV show is right though so bare with me). Anyway he's not much different from the series and books. Less broody maybe. More confident too. Oh and Jon is named after King Jon Stark, not Jon Arryn. Seriously does GRRM have enough Jon's yet?

 **Robyn Snow** : Brandon Starks's bastard daughter born to a serving maid in the castle. She is well loved by the castle despite being a bastard. Lyanna Stark all but adopted her and is the only thing keeping Lyanna from jumping out of the renovated First Keep. Jon calls her "Robb" for short.

 **Sansa Stark:** She's not the flighty one from the series. More like Arya with a sense of regalness and a hate for all things Southern. She is slightly more mature because of her age in relation to Arya though. The two sisters get along well.

 **Arya Stark:** Not much different here either. She is the only Stark child that looks like her mother with black hair and purple eyes while the rest favor their father. Kind of a reverse of the books.

 **Brandon (Bran) Stark** : is the youngest child of the Royal Family and is said to be of keen mind. Many speculate that he may go to the Tall Tower in White harbor to become a Maester when he is old enough. He is too young to speculate. Like all his siblings he also shows promise with a blade.

Eddard I

The King stood on the balcony of the tilt yard. He looked down on the happening's below. He smiled as he watched his pups practice their swordsmanship be it the case with Jon and Sansa. His two eldest were currently engaged in a fierce duel with wooden swords. Jon focusing more on overwhelming his sister with strength while Sansa danced around him like her namesake at the battle of White Harbor. Both were quite talented, his wife often saying it had to be the Dayne blood in them.

His two younger children were practicing archery with their cousin watching and patiently correcting their form. Arya was the better shot, but she was a year ahead of Bran in training.

His smile faded a little when he saw Robyn. It was hard seeing her. She reminded the Wolf King of his deceased elder brother. It brought up memories that he didn't like. He didn't let his discomfort show ever in front of the girl. It wasn't her fault that she had the temperament of her father. Eddard felt arm snake around his own as his wife leaned next to him jolting from his musings. Even after all these years, Ashara was still beautiful as ever, her violet eyes were also engaged with the children's training.

"So how are they doing?" Ashara asked.

"Sansa is spins every now and then. I'll have to Robyn to make sure she stops that. Such fancy stunts get one killed on the battle field. It is like presenting one's back as a target to the enemy."

Ashara smirked, "You get too serious when you watch them."

"I must be. I must trust them to take care of themselves one day. They won't be children forever."

Ashara sighed as his grim response, but didn't argue. She was from Dorne and they also didn't lie to their children about the harshness of the world.

His wife nodded. They heard someone approach to their left. They looked to see Jory Cassel, the captain of his family's guard. He saw the rolled parchment with a flame-red wax seal.

Ned broke the seal and read, "The Umber's say to be on the lookout for a band of Wildlings that may have come south." Jory nodded and left not needing to orders to send out a search party to find and deal with these wildlings.

Today it was time for the selection. The kennels were now home to new guests. His direwolf, Fury had a litter of five pups. Four for his children with the fifth going to Robyn. He hadn't told any of them yet. It was a surprise, especially for Robyn.

"Children," he firmly commanded.

To their credit, they instantly halted what they were doing and turned to look to their father.

"Come." He turned and they quickly put away their weapons. Only half jogging to catch up with their father. Robyn came too, staying close to her cousins. Ashara flashed Ned a smile which he returned when his children couldn't see so he could build a little tension in his children. They practically marched to the kennels uncertain of what their father wanted with them.

Robyn seemed to get what was going on. The girl often had her finger on the pulse of the castle. Some would day much like a southern spymaster.

"What are we doing here Father? I thought Fury was sick" Arya piped up.

Ned raised an eyebrow, "Who told you that?"

"Ser Rodrick."

"Well I am sure he just wanted to you stay away to avoid you discovering the surprise."

"What surprise… did she have a litter?!" Arya practically bounced with joy. Ned had to nod or risk breaking his stony composer with a laugh.

Of course even the elder children couldn't wait as Arya and Bran practically charged in to the kennels. Jon and Sansa maintained a more mature trot, which barely held their own excitement as they followed siblings into the kennels.

Arm in arm, he and his wife followed them into the kennels. Most of the horse sized archways for each kennel were empty having only one with freshly piled straw. No doors or bars were needed as the wolves could come and go as they pleased.

His children were standing outside the archway giving his direwolf proper space to breathe. The pups were too young to be held, but his children were pointing at the ones they wished to take as theirs. Bran and Arya had a little shoving match to get a better look.

He cleared his throat and they parted for him. He walked into the kennel and bended down on one knee next to his gray and black furred companion for the last thirty odd years. Her muzzle still far from graying. His father told him that direwolves bonded to a Stark don't age like their wild cousins did and stating that his own direwolf's muzzle didn't start graying until his own hair did. He reached out and petted Fury's head. He smiled he remembered how worried he was when she disappeared. The Wolfswood outside winterfell was said to still have packs living in the deep parts. She lied on her side nursing her pups. He smiled when he looked to see six pups suckling their mother's teats. Six?

He looked to Ashara who smirked having already noticed the sixth pup. "Children," she called them from their gaze. They turned to stare at their mother. "Your father isn't the only one with a surprise today." She put her hand on her belly. "Were going to have a new addition to the family."

The children looked stunned and Bran looked back to Fury, "Six pups. Is it common for direwolves to have the exact amount as the current total of children in the royal family?"

Ned nodded, "Generally yes unless you have too many children like Cregan Stark did." Ned shook his head. "Then we get the mess that was The Waltz of Wolves. You know how that ended up." All his children nodded remembering their lessons from Maester Luwin about the Northern succession war that followed with Cregan Stark's Death. It ended with Cregan's granddaughter Queen Serena Stark taking the Winter Throne with Jon Umber at her side.

"Now, it is too early to take them from their mother," Bran and Arya groaned as he stood up with a firm expression on his face. "I am about to tell you words that have been spoken the heirs of Winterfell since the fall of the Warg King. Direwolves are not pets. They are lifelong companions and process an uncanny intelligence that make them so much more." His children looked to his direwolf lying on her side now lifted her head to look at them.

Much to his relief they all met her gaze and understood seeing the wolf's expression that matched his own. It was written on their faces, the new respect. It reminded him of the day his brothers and sister received their own from his Father. He looked at the empty cells where his family's direwolves once stayed. It would be good to see them full once more. To this day he cleaned and replaced the straw in Fury's cell himself.

"Now we must let Fury be alone with her litter. We we'll let them imprint upon you in a week's time." He ushered them out of the kennels.

They were greeted by Maester Luwin. The maester was in his late fifties with a bald head ringed with graying hair. He wore the traditional brown robes with his chain hanging on his person. Each link a field of study he had masters and he mastered many. He nodded his head "Your Grace, a raven just arrived from King's Landing."

"King's Landing? What on earth could King Rhaegar want?" Ned was confused and a bit apprehensive.

"I no not Your Grace, but it must be of importance should King Rhaegar wish to reopen communication like this."

The Targaryen's hadn't been in contact since the Final Bolton Rebellion. Not since King Aerys II convinced Roose Bolton to rebel against the Starks. Ned felt his blood boil at the thought of the deceased Lord who flayed his father and brother alive, and then raped Lyanna. In the end Roose and his only child Domeric Bolton were dead. Never again would the Red Kings rise from the rubble of the Dreadfort. His sister still hadn't recovered. He had to have the tower of First Keep renovated for her. She never left the place now. It pained him when he visited her. At least Robyn and his own children kept her from throwing herself off the tower.

"Meet me in my solar. Children keep practicing with Robyn and Ser Rodrick." He didn't see if they obeyed or not, the pack obeyed their Alpha no matter what. He sensed Ashara and Luwin behind him. Luwin was a citadel trained maester, who snuck into the Citadel in Oldtown to learn their secrets before leaving to share what he learned at the Tall Tower in White Harbor. When he reached his solar Luwin handed him the letter. He unrolled it. He eyes widened as he read the script.

"What does it say, Ned?" Ashara asked.

"It says that King Rhaegar wishes to fulfill the Pact of Ice and Fire. He desires to wed his sister to our son." Ashara snatched the scroll and read herself. She looked to him and Luwin.

"He says that he wished to also pay reparations for his father's actions in the Final Bolton Rebellion. He is actually admitting to a great dishonor on his house. I think it may be genuine." Ashara handed the scroll back to Ned.

"Your Grace, if he truly means this it could be a great time to establish better relations with the southerners." Luwin added.

"Aye, and no doubt that will be one of his largest talking points when we meet at Moat Calin." Ned sat down taking opening the ink well and grabbing a small piece of parchment to send a message back to King's Landing."

"Your accepting Your Grace?" Luwin asked.

"Not this instant I need to hear the man out in person. Look him in the eye when we meet and determine his intentions' then." He finished the last word of the letter and sealed it with gray wax. He had to hope Rhaegar was not his scheming father, though it was probably Tywin Lannister who moved things along in the old King's mind. The Lannister's never got over that the Starks got to keep their Kingship while they were reduced to mere Lords. Ned would prepare for a possible trap and hope for the best.


	2. Chapter 2

Here is another chapter of my latest story. I have never gotten a response to a story like this before so I had to write another chapter. Hopefully I will hopefully get more updates out in the future. Reviews and criticism are always welcome.

* * *

Jon Stark I

"Sansa?" His sister looked at him from the seat of her horse. They were riding down the Wolfsroad in formation. His sister and himself were among those towards the front of the column. Their father riding just ahead of them. He wasn't wearing his crown, in fact as far as Jon could recall, his father never missed a chance to be without that "damn chunk of metal". Jon never asked his father why. He figured it out himself that his father still somehow felt like it wasn't his to wear. It was written all over his stony mask whenever his father wore it.

"Yes brother?" her cool demeanor was something adopted recently when in public. It was annoying, but she had been stressed for the better part of a year. Father had begun teaching her how to rule, not just some small keep, but the entire kingdom. Father didn't have to explain to either of them why. Father was a second son and never expected to rule the North like his elder brother was. It was thrust upon him, so in the possible event if Jon went by way of their uncle, Sansa would know how to rule.

"Are you alright. You seem tense."

"Why? Should I be? We are only riding to treat with the same family that caused ours so much suffering." Her words were cold and emotionless. Jon didn't comment further, silently agreeing. The air hung thick until a loud yip was heard from beside Sansa's horse. Jon smiled seeing Sansa look over and smile at the dog sized pup that tread beside her horse. The pup's coat was black and white like father's wolf. Like her person, the direwolf was fierce and very assertive. Jon had to looked to other opposite of the road were Windy, his all gray wolf darted through grass and summer snow, looking like a gray blur or a grey wind as Robyn pointed out.

"Perhaps Lady thinks you should give this treat a chance?" As if agreeing the wolf yipped again.

Sansa frowned at her wolf, but said nothing. No doubt mulling over her brother and new companion's words. "I'll hear those southron fools out for the time being. Hopefully your betrothed won't be too insufferable like most Southron women. More like sheep they are." Sansa gripped her reigns tightly. Jon new full well were his sister's thoughts were heading. The way women were treated in the south was not ideal. Some say it had only gotten worse after Queen Sansa Stark cut off Jonos Arryn's head.

He could see the anger well up in his sister. Her face pretty face scowling at the thoughts running around in her head. Jon looked down to see her hands grasping the reigns of her horse with fisted balled. The black saddle leather was beginning to coat with a thin layer of frost starting to run down the reigns to her horses bit.

"Sansa," his voice was calm to not alert anyone else in their party, "You shouldn't grip your reigns so tightly, you'll make your house nervous."

Sansa to her credit looked down slowly not drawing attention. He seen her eyes widen and she subtly brushed the closest growing frost off her reigns and gave them a light shake for the rest to fall off." They both casually looked around to see if anyone noticed only to meet their father's gaze. They both looked away in shame. Father slowed his horse until both their horses were on either side of his.

Their father's eyes were cold, but concerned. "Sansa, come with me. Jon take my place in the column. If anything happens you are to delegate in my stead." Jon nodded, watching his father and sister ride out and disappear behind the barrows that dotted the land around them as they neared Barrowtown. Fury and Lady followed as well trailing their wargs to keep close watch.

Jory Cassel rode up beside him with a grin, "Your Father putting you on the spot, my prince." Jon sighed, he hated being referred to by title like his father. It was just another reminder that one day the North will be in his hands to guide and shape.

Jon nodded and played along, "Aye, he wanted to spend time with Sansa."

"Aye, makes sense considering."

Jon turned his to Guard Captian, "Considering what?"

"Well, I have been hearing rumors that Rhaegar's son, Aegon, is also traveling to treat. Some are whispering that Rhaegar wishes to marry your sister to his son."

"What?!" Jon shook his head. _Great, the King in the South plans to be another Daeron the Young Dragon_.

"It is just a rumor, Your Grace. I thought you should know." Jory's voice was understanding. No one in the North wished to see their Winter Rose taken south to wilt in the heat.

"I hope so. If It were true, Sansa would run away and take the Green rather be tied to some Southron King." Jon muttered and internally cringed at the mention of the Treeminders. The all-female order was created by Sansa I as a solution to the fact the Night's Watch would not take women. The order was more severe in its practices though than the Night's Watch concerning the initiation.

"Aye Your Grace, but I hear that young Aegon is quite progressive when it comes to women in general in the south. It must be the Dornish blood in his veins." Jory said trying to assuage any fears Jon had for his sister, but only if the rumors were true. "Anyway, your mother told me send you back to the carriage. She wants to talk to you."

Jon nodded and thanked Jory for the message. He turned his horse and trotted back to the carriage where his mother rode. Her pregnancy would not allow for horse riding even if his mother's belly was just only starting to show signs of a baby bump. Father would have rather she stayed home with Bran and Arya, but she insisted. She wished to see her brother Ser Arthur Dayne, The Sword of the Morning. His uncle was considered the greatest swordsman in all of Westeros by some accounts.

He dismounted as the carriage stopped. He handed the reigns of his horse to be held by one of the guards. He opened the door and let Windy jump in first. When he did step inside Windy was licking his mother's face. He chuckled as she tried to push the young pup off.

"Little one please," his mother laughed while trying to push the pup off of her.

"Windy, let my mother breathe." His wolf complied and curled up on the floor next to the all-black wolf that never left his mother's side, still waiting for his warg to be born.

"Mother," he bowed his head as he sat opposite to her.

"Jon, I am glad to see you." She wiped some wolf sober off her face before continuing. "Did Jory talk your ear off before he gave you the message. He tends to do that unless its urgent."

"Aye, he did," Jon was surprised to see that his mother was the only one here as he looked about the carriage.

Noticing this, his mother smiled. "I told my handmaidens I wished to speak with you alone."

Jon nodded, "What about?"

"Well besides the obvious, nothing really." The queen frowned. "Many of the Northern Lords are in huff about this. Lord Karstark especially. He wished to wed his daughter Alys to you. It is also unheard to take two Southron brides consecutively. Lucky your father knows how placate them. Rickard, the Greatjon, and Lysanne Glover were able stop their grumblings at his words."

Jon remembered Alys from when he was younger and being quite smitten with her even after she knocked him on his ass in the tilt yard. She had brown hair and light blue eyes that shined like her family's sunburst sigil when she laughed. Her mother smirked when she saw the look on his face.

"Anyway, I wrote to my brother, Arthur, to inquire the nature of the woman you may be marrying."

Jon snorted, "May be?" his voice was laced with skepticism, "Father wouldn't have bothered to march if he didn't wish for it as well."

His mother sighed, "Maybe so, but my brother who has never once lied to me, wrote back that she is very beautiful, soft hearted, and of course, can have a bit of a fierce temper like most Targaryens."

Jon took in the news. Thinking about how she must feel. No doubt the girl had been told all her life what she would have to do for her husband especially during the bedding ceremony. The bedding ceremony was declared illegal in the North by Harrion I, Queen Sansa I's eldest son. It was said that he threw his bride over his shoulder and shouted, "She's all mine!" He then ran off with his bride, Sera Reed, kicking and screaming while she yelled obscenities that could make even an ironborn blush.

Add to all that, the horror stories told about the Northerners to Southron children must be as frightening as Giants and Others were for him and his siblings. He sighed, remembering Sansa's avid hatred of the South which he too found their ways distasteful.

"I hope I can make her feel at home." Jon admitted.

His mother smiled and leaned forward patting his knee, "Don't worry, you won't be alone in that."

The carriage stopped. A knock on the door drew their attention, "Come in," his mother said.

The door opened revealing Jory with a serious look about him. "Pardon Your Grace, but the crown prince is needed. A deserter from the Night's Watch was found by a local hunter."

Jon felt a sense of dread fill his stomach. If they were calling on him then that meant his father hadn't returned with his sister. He would have to pass the sentence and swing the sword like his ancestors before him. He had never done so. His father always passed the sentence and would make Jon and Sansa bare witness.

"Aye, I understand." Jon stood up stepping out of the carriage. He ignored the pained look his mother gave him. It was the last thing needed to see as far as his resolve was concerned. When he shut the door, Jory must have noticed the somber expression plaster on his face.

"We can wait for your father, my prince." Jory suggested.

"No Jory, I will carry out the sentence. Father would disapprove if I waited for him." Jory gave him a respectful nod carrying a much more professional tone than before.

"This way my Prince." Jory and Jon mounted their horses and rode north of the column in the direction the deserter was being held.

* * *

Sansa I

Father lectured her for a what seemed like a long time. Then again, every time she had been lectured in the past, time always seemed to move at a snail's pace. It wasn't undeserved though. She knew it was her fault that she lost control even briefly. She was lucky that only Jon noticed. Her father did too, but he always knew when any of his children lost control of their family's gifts. Sixteen years old and felt like she did when she was a small child. He went on about how if anyone that wasn't a Stark, Poole, or Cassel found out it could be disastrous for their house and the North. Her family's trait went back to Brandon the Builder, and the stories of how he raised the Wall with the help of Giants and the Children of the Forest. So the maesters would claim, the but truth was far more dark.

When he finished, they sat on silence for a while on the one of the many grassy barrows that dotted the land around where only the dead could hear them speak. She grasped her knees and pulled them to her chest. Her father leaned forward and rest his elbows on his knees.

"It wasn't easy for me growing up. More so for Brandon and Lyanna. They had the Wolfsblood like yourself." Her father seemed lost for a moment going back into old memories of happier times.

"I am sorry father. I am just nervous about this treat. I know you're doing this to help end hostilities in the south, but the Southrons don't hold to their word very well." Sansa admitted.

Her father nodded, "Aye, but King Rhaegar is not his father, and doesn't let Tywin Lannister control him like Areys did. Hell, the only thing Areys did to spite Tywin was marry Rhaegar to Elia Martel instead of Tywin's daughter Cersei. Even so, I must meet the man face to face to see the motivations behind his eyes before I judge too harshly like I have in the past."

Sansa looked down at her hands. Her gifts were always stronger than her siblings, Jon seemed to have already mastered them. Arya as wild as she was had a handle on them and she was three years younger. Bran's gift hadn't ever manifested for which she thought was lucky on his part. Her father seemed to fear for Bran more. She asked why once and he said that there were other gifts their family processed just as dangerous if not more so.

Her father rested a hand on her shoulder, "Do not worry Sansa, you will learn how to control them better. Just because Jon and Arya have already, doesn't make you any less. If anything they had it easy."

She looked up meeting his eyes, "Thank you Father." He smiled as he stood up. She followed suit standing up and hugging him. He didn't seem surprised and she felt his arms encircle her.

"My daughter," he whispered before pulling away.

He strode to their horses. She followed and mounted her own horse. She smiled when Fury and Lady emerged from behind a barrow. Lady was trying to play with her mother. Her mother looked exasperated as the pup would try to cling to her mother's neck.

Her father chuckled, "Not easy being a parent is it?"

The wolf let out an annoyed snort before trotting along after them. Lady bounded after her still wishing to play and nipped at her mother's heels.

"Lady give your mother a break. You can play with Windy when we reach the column again." Sansa suggested. This appeased Lady and she ran after Sansa. Sansa smiled, finding her wolf's name appropriate. Lady was the very model of a Northern Lady, both fiercely protective in temperament and battle, yet could be gentle when needed.

They rounded several of the barrows, making it feel like more a maze than anything as the overgrown green and snow covered mounds where just high enough to block her view even while atop a horse. When they did make it to the Wolfsroad, the sight that greeted them was eerie. A crowd stood with a prisoner brought forth and kneeled before a block. This is an execution, since Father wasn't there yet, that meant that Jon…

Sansa was about to hurry and yell to Jon who stood there holding _Ice,_ that Father was back. Father stopped her, holding his hand up. Jon couldn't see them from his angle and no doubt many wouldn't notice them either while they watched the execution.

"Stay yourself Sansa," her father's voice calm and stern, "He must do this, and he'll be even more nervous if I am present." So they watched as Jon said the words she heard her father say many times. They were too far away to hear him, but she could see his lips condemning the man to death all the same.

When he finished he looked the man in the eyes and heard his last words. The man seemed resigned and ready to die with dignity. Jon seemed calm, but years of growing up together showed a nervousness under the exterior her brother wished to present.

The man knelt down and bared his neck. Jon didn't hesitate. _Ice_ arced down and in a clean stroke the man's head separated from his body rolling to a stop face down a few feet away. Sansa saw the whole thing. She remembered her first time witnessing as execution with Jon beside her. The man father killed was a murder and shat himself while he begged for mercy. _I remember_ _it seemed like it would be easy at the time. This man, however, seemed to regret his actions, and died gracefully. I could only imagine what Jon was going through right now._

Jon turned around, sheathing _Ice_ to be cleaned later in its wolf-skin scabbard. Father always did it in the Godswood which Jon would no doubt do once they reached Barrowtown and the Godswood there before presenting the blade back to father.

Father spurred his horse and rode toward Jon, Sansa not far behind. Jon seen them approaching. Windy sat beside him, ever a relaxing influence for her brother.

When they reached him, he spoke, "Father, Sister," his tone neutral, still holding back the nervous wreck inside his head.

"Son, you did well," Father dismounted and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"You seen the execution then?" Jon asked surprised and a bit worried.

"Aye, you had already sentenced him when we rounded the barrow. It never becomes any easier."

Jon shouldered slumped, "He was a deserter from the Night's Watch. He claimed his ranging party was attacked by the dead. Fear drove him south. He didn't even run to his home in Karhold like many usually do. He just wanted to get south. A young hunter found him and brought to us. The young man left shortly after delivering him. Said something about having to find his smelly companion." _He is so shaken. He is practically rambling._ Sansa knew her brother was strong and would overcome this like the King he would one day be.

"The dead, as in the Others? They have gone for thousands of years." Sansa said skeptically after she dismounted her horse.

To Sansa's surprise she saw Jon nod as he seemed to believe the man. "They have, but that doesn't mean they are dead."

"He could have been lying?" His father suggested.

"You didn't see the look in his eyes. Whatever he seen, he believed it till the very end," Jon was quick to come the dead man's defense.

Father's face became grimmer and he looked to the north, considering Jon's words.

"It is something to look into after the business at Moat Cailin is concluded, but most of the time the mind believes what it wishes to believe. Now come, we need to get Barrowtown." They mounted up and the column began to move again. Sansa's thoughts also had her looking in the Wall's direction. A worrying feeling settling in her stomach. She prayed that the deserter's words were mere ramblings. If they were true… than she didn't even want to consider what that meant. She shook her head trying to rid herself of those thoughts and rode on.

* * *

Rhaegar I

The guffaws of a drunken Robert Baratheon could be heard well over everything and everyone else in Moat Cailin. King Rhaegar sighed as his friend and practically surrogate brother drank himself into a stupor. How the Lord of Storms End could sit on his chair after downing so much wine was beyond him? Robert was a tall and muscular man to be sure. His family hereditary traits of black hair and striking blue eyes made him rather handsome as well. Many ladies could attest to his sexual prowess as well before his marriage to Cersei Lannister of course. His friend never really got into specifics, but he said that Cersei was enough woman for even a man like him. They didn't call her the Lioness of the Rock for nothing.

Rhaegar was happy that both Cersei and Robert weren't too miserable anymore especially after the rocky way they started out. Cersei was supposed to be betrothed to him, but Rhaegar's mad father, King Areys II, slighted Tywin by marrying Rhaegar to Elia Martel. Rhaegar was just as angry as Tywin. Tywin practically ran the realm and to thank him, his father japed and insulted Tywin all the time. Whatever happened to the man Rhaegar knew as a child was gone. Even Steffon Baratheon seemed to be seen at court less and less as time went on around the keep during his Father's reign.

Robert's laughter seemed to die down as he ran out of wine. He let out a belch that could have been heard back in Riverrun he'd wager. Robert was a great friend, but often he could be hard to rein in even for Rhaegar, and he was the bloody King of the Six Kingdoms. Rhaegar silently wished that his mother still lived. Robert got along well with her, and never so much as touched a drop of ale or shouted an obscenity within her presence.

"Rhaegar," his friend slurred, "You should celebrate as well, your daughter gave birth to a healthy boy. My son, Steffon, was said to be beside himself. Our families haven't been this close in blood since the Conquest!"

"It is something to celebrate, I agree, but I fear that a headache would be the last thing I'll need when dealing with King Eddard tomorrow." Rhaegar admitted.

Robert slapped his shoulder, nearly knocking Rhaegar's smaller frame out of his seat. The Storm Lord laughed heartily. "True, true. That's why you're the king after all. Thinking ahead is something you always have been good at. Me, however, prefer to fight it out."

Rhaegar chuckled, "Aye, you do, remember that Lannister Bannerman you hit so hard with your warhammer he must have flown a full ten yards back into the wall of the tiltyard."

Robert laughed with even more zeal, "I know, I swear I smacked him so hard that his ancestors felt it." Robert slapped his knee before the happy expression on his face soured. "Bastard deserved it though. He called your mother a whore. I should have struck the whoreson fifty more bloody times until no one could recognize his corpse. May the seven bless her soul." Even drunk Robert bowed his head, thinking of the woman who practically raised him as her own after his own mother died of birthing fever shortly after his youngest brother Renly was born.

Rhaegar put a hand on his friend's shoulder, "Perhaps you should retire for the night."

"Aye, before I smack some idiot upside the head for looking too much like that bastard." Robert got up and walked away leaving his current cup half full which was a rarity.

Rhaegar sighed and decided to look across the hall of Moat Calin's grand hall which wasn't much. The fortress wasn't meant for Feasts and social gatherings. No it was meant for one thing only, war. Countless armies have thrown bodies against this mighty fortress and it has never fallen. After the Conquest, Torrhen Stark and all his Lords pitched in to maintain the great keep restoring its former glory after years of neglect.

He looked to see King Eddard having a merry time, talking with one of his bannermen. A short wiry fellow by the name of Howland Reed. It was said that Howland saved the King's life during the Final Bolton Rebellion. The details were scarce, but the results were clear as the two seemed to speak freely with each other.

The Northmen sat at their own table while his party sat opposite them enjoying the feast. Many other Northern Lords… and Ladies, he added to himself, were not in attendance. Normally that would be seen as a slight against the Southron Lords present like Jon Arryn or Robert, but King Eddard claimed that most of the Lords are going to Winterfell for the potential wedding. Potential… Rhaegar smirked. It seemed pretty final that the King of Winter would except.

Rhaegar had thought his sister and her future husband were to marry here, but Moat Calin wasn't the most ideal place he admitted. This brought up the question. Could he and some of his lords attend? He would have to discuss the specifics with King Eddard tomorrow after the official first meeting took place.

The Northern table was very lively despite the tension in the air between the two parties. He noticed that the Northern Crown Prince was eyeing his sister with curiosity. Daenerys to her credit, pretended not to notice even if she gave the Prince curious looks from time to time in return.

Rhaegar was impressed with the lad to say the least. The boy and even his sister were already expert swordsmen for their age. Aegon even admitted he wanted to test himself against the Northern heir. It would be a good fight. Aegon's training under the greatest swordsmen Westeros had ever seen versus Jon's raw natural ability. If the rumors were true Jon's skill was unmatched by many northerners. It was said the only ones he could spar with for long periods of time were his sister and bastard cousin.

Rhaegar knew that King Eddard's two youngest were back in Winterfell. Apparently his third youngest was given the reigns to the castle. A girl of three and ten, reportedly wilder than the animals that trailed the Starks wherever they went. He saw the beasts now curled at the feet of their masters. Young pups the size of a dog. The King's full grown direwolf was horse-sized and chewing on bones and other pieces of meat. _That big and one never hears tales of the Northern Kings riding them into battle. I wonder why?_

Drawn from his musings he seen the only Southorn at the Northern table was his kingsguard and greatest friend, Arthur Dayne. Rhaegar had given the man leave to visit with his sister. It was interesting to say the least watching as he caught up with his sister in person at a place of honor.

Rhaegar took time to notice Princess Sansa who sent occasional glares at some of the Southron party. A shame as the hatred filled glares seemed to take away from her beauty. He had heard the girl abhorred everything south of the Neck. It was ironic, considering that her mother was from Dorne and couldn't get any possibly farther south than that. The girl seemed to be aiming most of that hatred at Aegon, the crown prince of the Six Kingdoms. His son seemed a bit confused when he would meet her eyes. His son's features favored the traditional Targaryen look, with silver hair and violet eyes like Rhaegar himself had. His son leaned over and whispered.

"I don't think the Princess likes me for some odd reason. She keeps sending me death glares. It is like Rhaenys is here." Rhaegar let out a chuckle at his son mention of his eldest child who was currently in Storms End with her newborn son. The match between Robert's son, Steffon, and Rhaenys was a good one. Steffon reserved and good-hearted like his grandfather.

"She has most likely heard the rumors that I plan to ask her father to marry you two." Rhaegar took a drink of his wine as his son's eyes widened and he damn near spit out his drink.

"I thought you were considering Tywin's granddaughter for me? Tywin would not like losing out on another royal marriage." Aegon replied bitterly. Rhaegar sighed. His son's respect for Tywin was bit too much for his liking. Rhaegar respected Tywin as well, but the man was brutal when it came to his enemies going as far to wipe out family lines that opposed him. One had just listen to the Rains of Castamere to find out how much.

"Aye normally he wouldn't, but he had actually suggested it would be a good way bring the Northmen into the fold. Of course, it wouldn't work, I don't have hostages and blades to the Northern Lords' throats like the Daeron the Young Dragon did with the Dornish." Rhaegar admitted, "Though if our family were to have trouble in a rebellion the Northmen would be great allies in the that regard. They have aided our family before during the Dance."

"Yet we sent them no aid with their Waltz. Only now we decided to fulfill the pact made between Queen Rhaenyra and King Cregan." Aegon answered with a frown. His son disapproved of their family's tendencies to cause as much trouble as good for the realm during the Targaryen reign.

"Better late, then never," was all he could say. Rhaegar frowned again when he seen the Stark princess send another glare in his son's direction. _Tywin may just get a royal match after all if that young she-wolf has anything say about it._


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for any mistakes in advance, my beta was unavailable. I am sorry for the long wait, but I have been very busy at work recently so time for writing has been scarce. This chapter also didn't flow the way I wanted it. I did have some reservations about posting it as well so powered through it best I could to get things moving. At least know I can move on to more character POVs to give an idea into what else is different about this AU. Reviews and criticism are always welcome.

Arya I

Boredom. That is what ruling entailed. This is what awaited her when she was older and married off to some Lord's or Lady's heir like her sister and younger brother. At least Jon wouldn't have to leave home. Arya would though, she didn't want to, but Father would find her a match. Father was lucky, though, he found Mother and married her for love.

It was said in talk from various serving maids that Grandfather wanted his children to be in a happy marriage and sought out many good matches for his children. Her mother being noble was all that was needed to convince Grandfather of the marriage.

It was something her Great-Grandmother wasn't too keen on. Arya had heard the tales, the Wolf Bitch, they called her. Her Great-Grandmother Edwina was said to have insulted everyone in the North as well as the South. It was said that the Martell's tried to marry a daughter to Grandfather. Edwina merely laughed in the emissaries' face, "Why would I want to wed my son to a house as bowed, as bent, and as broken as theirs is." She furthered soured many of her highborns' opinions when she married her brother's daughter, Lyarra, to her son and heir. The Bolton's were especially pissed because they wished to marry their daughter to her Grandfather. Some say this started the festering that led to the Final Bolton Rebellion.

It brought a frown to her face thinking of her ancestor. The Starks claimed to be noble at times and when they weren't… at least they were honest about it. Many of the petitioners didn't have much to deal with when it came to complaints. The Starks always did their duty to the smallfolk even the questionable ones like her great-grandmother. A peaceful land, a quiet people as the old Bolton saying went. It was a family trait that earned the respect their bannerman for countless generations.

The main petition she had to deal with today was a wolverine attack on a man which left him dead. It was strange that such a creature would openly attack a man. He must of tread on the animal's territory. She leaned over to Maester Luwin. She did this every once and while when she made rulings. It seemed to ease the minds of the petitioners seeing the young Princess take advice from someone older and more experienced with such matters.

"Should I send some men to go hunt it down?" she whispered.

He shook his head, "No, my princess, it would be better to put bounty on the creature so that those who wish to hunt down the beast may do so at their own risk."

"What if kills more people?" she whispered a bit angrily.

"My princess, it gives the locals in the area a chance to make more coin when the bounty is turned in along with the pelt." Arya thought on this before she made her decision.

"I have reached a decision," the smallfolk present listen intently to her words, especially the widow who presented the petition.

"A bounty of fifty silver will be awarded to the hunter who brings in this creature." There were murmurs along the smallfolk. She looked to Luwin who nodded, telling her that amount of coin offered was well within the norm.

With the last petitioners for the day out of the way, she was allowed a break which involved her and Bran practicing in the tiltyard. Her brother had grumbled as he was engrossed in a good book. He relented and they began to practice with Ser Rodrick watching them as Robyn couldn't like she generally did. She was visiting Aunt Lyanna in the Winter Rose's Tower. Arya made a mental note to see her aunt later. Her aunt seemed to like her company often calling her cute as she favored her mother in appearance and annoyed Arya to no end about it.

Arya always felt the odd one out of her siblings being the only one not to look like Father. Her siblings may have given a lighthearted jape about it occasionally, but they were still close. She knocked Bran on the ground. He yielded, and Arya helped him back up. They took a small break and were back at it once more. Bran seemed determined to best her today. He hadn't done so yet but he was improving. Jon and Sansa never took it easy on her when she learned to wield a blade. Therefore, she owed her younger brother the same respect. He needed to be prepared for a real fight. Bran suddenly lashed out with a move she didn't expect. It almost disarmed her, but she recovered and sent him into the dirt again.

He held up his hands, "I almost had you there." He smiled.

"Almost doesn't cut it in a real fight," Gods, she sounded like Jon and Sansa with how serious the tone in her voice was. Bran seemed a bit dejected, but Arya helped him up again. "But, you are improving. That's good and losing again is nothing to feel bad about. Father says it is better to lose in the ring over and over than die when out of it. I still haven't been able to best Sansa or Jon, but one day I hope to do so."

Bran seemed to perk up at her words taking them in. Arya new when they fought again that Bran would learn and try to disarm Arya once more.

"Alright Arya, but I will get you one of these days," he proclaimed. He raised his fist high and Arya chuckled.

"Well then I hope that you give it your all. You have too." She nodded to Rodrick who seemed impressed with the way Arya handled Bran. They continued to fight for the next hour. Bran lost again and again to her, but did not once stop trying, giving her a challenge.

After Rodrick called a stop for the day, Nymeria patted over and licked her hand. Arya smiled and scratched her friend behind the ears. She saw Bran doing the same with Summer. There were only three direwolves here in the castle. The currently nameless black wolf went with Mother protecting his future warg.

Arya and Bran went to library were she and her brother were learning about more Southron houses and their histories from the Westerlands this time around. They finished up the Riverlands last week after several boring tests. Bran seemed to eat it up. History wasn't Arya's best subject, but numbers and running a holdfast were among her best.

After all that, Bran went back to reading and Robyn, who had returned toward the end of their practice was fine tuning her skills with that polearm of hers. She wanted to take Nymeria to the godswood, and figured Specter and Summer would like to as well. After asking Robyn and Bran, both allowing it, Arya found her sitting next to the tree content to watch them play.

Arya looked up at the blood red leaves above her. She also saw the face carved into it, crying tears of blood red sap. Arya turned back to watching the wolves play. She wanted to jump right in with them but she promised Father that she would maintain a princess-like demeanor while she oversaw the Castle. It was grating to do so, meaning this small moment to herself was something she wasn't going to waste.

She saw no Treeminders, but she knew they only came out at night or late in the day to pray and preform rites. Arya shivered as the women she rarely seen in the Godswood… or at all really. The smallfolk believed they could meld into the trees to hide. It was times like these that she believed the tales as she looked around, seeing nothing but the trees and foliage.

Some opposed the idea of the Treeminders founding, mostly assuming the order would be soft and female criminals would have an easy way out. Queen Sansa was a hard woman and set the guidelines for entering the order. Treeminders would say their vows and dedication to the Old Gods. After that, their tongues were cut out with a heated knife so they could not preach false words the old gods did not say themselves like many Septons in the South did for their own power. After vows were taken, they wore only green robes and would spend many days locked up, beaten, and given only bread, water, and moon tea until they could no longer bare children.

Arya felt her hands involuntarily touch the pendant around her neck. The treeminders handed these pendants out in Wintertown to travelers and villagers often. It was a small comfort and a subtle reminder of the Old Gods' unforgiving nature.

She could name on her hand the interactions she had with the green nuns that tended the godswood. She remembered when she was little and the oldest treeminder, the one they called the Gnarled, gave her a wierwood pendent carved with a bright and smiling face. The Gnarled was old, not as old as Maester Aemon at Castle black, but old. Old Nan said the Gnarled was once Raya Stark.

Raya Stark and her sister, Mariah, were the only Starks other than Queen Serena Stark to make it out of the Waltz of Wolves alive. Serena Stark was going to have her aunts executed because they supported their sister, Alys. They chose the Green instead.

She heard a loud yip, and was drawn from her musings. Arya smiled as she watched the direwolves play. Specter, the all white wolf, and Nymeria, her own brown and gray wolf, were wrestling. Summer would playfully nip one of others, prompting the nipped party to chase down brownish black wolf. She eventually grew tired as she watched and her eyes fell shut sending her into a pleasant slumber.

"My Princess," she opened her eyes to see that Luwin had entered the Godswood.

"Yes maester," she said sharply due her dreary state of wakefulness. She winced and gave a quick apology.

Liwin nodded, "Lord Cerwyn's party has been spotted coming up the road."

Arya groaned, if Lord Cerwyn was coming here then that meant that Father had all but accepted the betrothal. Lord Cerwyn would only be among the first to arrive for the wedding. She would have to begin preparing the Castle until Mother and Father returned.

She groaned, but stood up, brushing leaves and grass from her dress. "Well, let's meet and welcome them to Winterfell. No doubt many lords will arriving before Father returns."

Bran I

Everyone of note in the castle, stood waiting for Lord Cerwyn and his party in the courtyard. When the older man did ride in, Bran noticed how he dismounted slowly. Lord Cerwyn was older than Father so his joints pry ached. His son Clay practically hopped of his horse. Bran disliked Clay, the young man arrogant and had a knack for poor pranks. He knew that many young Lords, heirs especially would be clamoring to court his elder sister. This was probably their last chance to show Father they were worthy of Sansa. Clay practically strutted to them while his Lord Father shuffled a bit due to his old joints. They both bowed low. "My Princess, My Prince, it is a pleasure to be here for the Crown Prince's wedding."

"It is a pleasure to have you Lord Cerwyn." Arya replied before asking Vaylon Poole, the castle steward, to see them to their rooms.

It happened then, a guard hurried across the courtyard gave them both a quick bow before, "My Princess! More riders approach! They bare the crest of House Dustin." Bran heard Maester Luwin as the old maester swore under his breath.

"My Princess, perhaps you should let me deal with Lady Dustin?" Bran was put off by the way Luwin was acting. First cursing, and now trying to convince Arya to let him greet a Lady. It was out of character. Arya gave no sign she noticed the change however.

"No, Maester, Father would disapprove if Bran and I shirked in our duties while he wasn't here." Arya's tone was soft, but commanding. One could hardly believe she was a girl of three and ten.

"If you must, my Princess," Measter Luwin conceded.

Ser Rodrick seemed uncomfortable as well. "Snow, he called, go and check if Lady Lyanna would like to greet Lady Dustin." There it was, more strange behavior from Ser Rodrick this time. The two men gave each other a look that said much more than words could. Bran turned his head away trying to look distracted with something else, hoping they didn't notice his reaction. Arya didn't notice, no doubt she was preparing for dealing with the abrasive Lady Dustin.

His cousin scoffed, "Aunt Lyanna, step out of the Rose's tower? It is more likely that Dragons would take flight once again." The tall young woman adjusted her cloak and left their company. Not a second later Lady Dustin came in, her horse sliding to a stop with the ease and grace of professional rider.

She was tall with small wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, despite that, she had aged well. Her hair tied into a widow's knot. She was dressed in a black dress, a symbol of morning. She dismounted her horse gracefully, and practically floated toward Arya and him. Bran felt intimidated. Arya held firm, as Lady Dustin scanned the crowd before looking down at Arya's short frame.

"My Princess, My Prince." She gave two short bows to each.

"Welcome Lady Dustin," Arya respectfully nodded her head. "Your arrival was most unexpected."

"Are not most of the nobles in the North coming? My Princess." Lady Dustin inquired with a sense of intimidation. If Bran were in Arya's place he knew he would have faltered under the stern gaze of Lady Dustin. Of course, this was Arya Stark, whom many known to be the most stubborn person in Winterfell never so much as flinched.

They eyed each other, waiting for the other to give. Finally, Luwin stepped forward.

"Your arrival this early was unexpected, My Lady. Many assumed you would be joining the King's party for the Journey here. I will have Steward Poole accommodate you and your guards."

"That will be acceptable." Lady Dustin tone betrayed a scathing irritation as she bowed once more before she was led away.

Bran noticed Luwin whisper something in Ser Rodrick's ear. The man nodded and walked off in the direction of the Lonely Tower. Something wasn't quite right and he was going to get some answers.

Eddard II

 _If you truly want peace, not this unhealthy tension, then would you not be willing to give up something just as precious as I am for this treat._ It was at that point that Ned had stormed out of Moat Calin's solar. His anger at the Fire King nearly the same point for which he held the man's father. He fucking knew what Rhaegar wanted, not just to fulfill the Pact, but to unite their houses even further. Forever linking their families and maybe one day, even the realm. He found himself stomping through the halls until he climbed the battlement's and facing the north at his kingdom. Just then a chilled wind breezed by.

Ned sighed as he watched as clouds rolled by casting shadows across the swampy landscape. He recalled memories of Lyanna and his elder brother, Brandon, trying in vain to race the shadows the clouds cast across the earth on horseback. They never could outrun them, a horse could only move so quickly for so long. There were times where he wished he was bolder like the them, ready to charge ahead and race the clouds with no reservations.

It was wrong, what he had to do, but it was needed. He had heard the rumors and murmurings that many nobles wished to take what The Conquerer couldn't, to establish a legacy that would last for centuries. Having both royal families tied together would make the South think twice before trying to take the North by force.

It was that instant he knew what he had to do. He had to give up his daughter, his pup. He closed his eyes, watching the possible reactions Sansa would give him when he told her. In truth, he had no desire to let her go as any sane parent would. He worried for her greatly like all his children. It had to be done, because as a King, his personal feeling had nothing to do with it. His kingdom needed this and it was bigger than his desires.

He turned from the battlements and walked back to the Solar. Two sets of eyes looked at him. Ned sat back down behind the desk. He waited a moment before the saying the some of the most difficult words he knew he would ever say.

"I accept your proposal."

There was no mocking triumph on Rhaegar's part. A relieved sag of the Fire Kings shoulders was all that he let show. The man met Ned's gaze, and the Ice King saw the mirrored turmoil of giving up a sibling just as beloved. Rhaegar broke the gaze by simply nodded before departing.

Ned fell back into the old chair. Fury got up and the direwolf moved to rest her head on his leg with a sad look in her eyes. His right hand reached out and he slowly ran his hand over her fur on her head. They both sat there, comforting each other a short while. The next steps would be even more difficult. He would have to tell his wife which wouldn't be all that hard. Ashara was reasonable and knew this day would have come sooner or later.

No, he wasn't worried about his wife. It was his daughter's reaction that he had to face. He sighed and stood up. He left the solar quickly, his wolf joining him at his side in the hall. Ned smiled glad he wouldn't be entirely alone as he scratched Fury's back before continuing.


	4. Don't Get Too Excited

Sorry for not writing this sooner. I always hate writing these kind of chapters, because I hate reading them as much as you do. Anyway I am going to discontinue writing this story. Real Life makes it hard for me to find time. I was promoted at work a while back and have less free time nowadays. I am just making things official at this point, because I haven't posted in forever. I was going write down the basic plot and a few scenes I had in mind, but that would spoil things. Yes, I am putting this story up for adoption. So hope isn't lost yet. This stems from how popular this story is. So if anyone thinks they can do what i don't have time to (and hopefully better), send me a PM. For those who want to adopt, I won't make you adhere to what I intended. You'll have the reigns. I'll just give you the basic plot elements and a few scenes I had in mind, and let you decide where to go from there.

P.S. If I cannot find someone to adopt this story. I will just write down what I had in mind to give you all some closure for this story.


	5. Overall What was Planned for this Story

This a broad generalization of what I had planned. Figure I owe my readers that much. The guy who was going to write my story hasn't sent me a message in months. If some still want's to write this story let me know and send me a PM. Please forgive mistakes this was written out rather quickly.

The next chapter consisted of Rhaegar telling Aegon the reason he sought a Stark bride was to reintroduce magic into the Targaryen line since their dragons are dead.

When they reached Winterfell where Jon and Aegon would have a sparring match, Aegon would win though it will be close. Before the fight, Sansa wants to challenge Aegon, but Jon manages to talk her out of it telling her that was no way to embarrass herself or her soon to be. Jon catches her in the armory so this conversation was just between them.

Well wedding happens, and it is beautiful to be sure. Dany is nervous, Jon is nervous. Jon carries her to their bedchambers gently.

After the wedding, Ned takes Jon and Sansa to meet their great-grandfather (Edwina's husband) who is a Child of the Forest. Their ancestor tells them more about their family gifts. He explains that the blizzard Aegon the Conqurer fell victim was not caused by Torrhen initially. Their powers aren't powerful enough to start blizzards, but they can amplify existing ones and secretly warns Ned about Bran's power. Sansa kisses Torrhen Karstark goodbye. They had a small relationship. It was believed that Ned trained Sansa how to rule because he was going to give her the Dreadfort and the name Dreadstark.

Sansa ended up going south. She does abuse her powers a bit. Creating a small pocket of cold air, letting her where northern dresses and some fur while still looking comfortable causing other ladies of court to try and earn her favor why adopting similar attire and suffer in the heat. Sansa finds amusement in this. There is tension between her and the sand snakes.

She doesn't really acknowledge Aegon who wants to make this betrothal work, and tries to woo her. Finally, he writes to Jon how best to break the ice between he and Sansa, who writes back a message with two words on it Lemon Cakes. He finds it funny that Sansa who claims to hate the south enjoys the most southern food there is. This opened up and dialogue and the two start find common ground. Sansa also starts connecting with her uncle Arthur and eventually meets Edric. Allyria Dayne doesn't exist because I believe that she is actually Ned's or Brandon's Secret bastard in the books.

Back at Winterfell Ashara is very welcoming to Dany who is starting to adjust to the cold. Arya learn that she is to be Married to Torrhen Karstark instead and found house DreadStark. Arya is not a fan. Ashara either has a son or daughter. I haven't decided on the boy or girl. I usually flip a coin five times to determine a babies gender.

Anyway I should go over the world state some more. Jamie was married to Catelyn Tully. They had redhaired twins named Gerion and Johanna. Lysa hung herself because Catelyn got to marry Jamie instead of her. Tyrion is still unmarried.

Elia Martel is sick currently bedridden and the Ashara wished to go south as soon as the babe she is carrying is born. Sansa and Elia would meet and become friends.

The story would skip to a year and half later. Sansa would give birth to her son Jaeharys and Dany would have a girl named Torrhen. Again I flipped a coin five times.

I had this side story for Aegon and Sansa would be staying at an inn when it is set on fire by bandits. Jaeharys would be locked inside until Aegon rushes in to save him. Aegon and Jae would have no burns. The Bandits would attack and force Aegon and Sansa on the run. They would be ambushed and Sansa would use her powers creating blades of ice. Of course, using her powers too much would turn her hair white and her eyes would glow blue. She would attack recklessly. In Her lack of control, she would almost kill Aegon, but would stop upon seeing Jaeharys in his arms. They would find they're way to safety of Arthur Dayne who stayed behind to deal with bandits. While Sansa is the most powerful of her generation, Torrhen Stark First of his Name is the most powerful recorded. Arthur Dayne would capture a bandit and they would find out this was a Blackfyre plot to put Illyio's son Aegon Blackfyre on the throne.

Jon and Dany's Daughter would be Torrhen Second of her name.

I also had a scene planned where Dany was lost in a blizzard due the Company pf the Rose's invasion and Jon would find and her and hold her summoning a warm wind called a 'Heater'. (I wanted to call it something more nuanced, but this is the North we are talking about) This would be similar to a real-life phenomenon called a Chinook. Believe me, they are real I have been in one. The snow just melts around you, its crazy. Then it is real cold again.

It would turn out that this was an assassination attempt which would be investigated into Aegon and Sansa finding out that Varys was planning on aiding the Blakcfyre pretender. The Reach would complicate things by declaring for the pretender as Varys brokered a secret deal with Olenna Tyrell. The conspiracy also includes the Company of the Rose who wish to take back the North and keep them from aiding they're allies in the south. The War would last Five Years and Summer would end. Sansa would meet her Cousin Edric Dayne who is squire to Arthur and the Two would become fast Friends, as well as family often sparring under Arthur's eye. Arthur was hesitant to train Sansa at first, being stony Dornish and all, but relents.

P.S. The Stark Queens weren't going to be perfect either. Sansa I was a warmonger (pretty much fem Bobby B) Sansa II was a weak willed toadie who was manipulated by her sister and husband. Alys I was alright not much happened with her reign. Serena I was ruthless and ended the Waltz of Wolves violently. Edwina I was a bitch no one liked but ruled efficiently. Like I said they weren't perfect exemplars.


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